


Eskel Fixes Everything

by Kaerith



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Feelings, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Kaerith
Summary: Geralt thinks he is suffering Jaskier's existence in his life but Jaskier is really suffering Geralt's defensive persona. Eskel gives Geralt the proverbial kick in the ass to stop the sadness.Alternate title: "Eskel Tosses A Coin At A Witcher and Makes the Penny Drop For Geralt"
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 184





	Eskel Fixes Everything

**Author's Note:**

> I played the Wither 3 Kaer Morhen scenes twice yesterday. I discovered the cave with the old Trial of Grasses equipment. I got the feels with how horrible being those children would have been. So, Geralt has internalized his painful experiences and is suffering a life of denial and Eskel comes around to be a pain in the ass brother who wants to help him out. Everything's based on W3:TWH except for Netflix!Jaskier. (Snarky game!Geralt 4ever!)

Geralt was in an inn seated alone at one of the few tables enjoying the peace and relative quiet. Suddenly an object hit him in the eye and plopped into his mug of ale. 

He looked up, prepared to glare some drunk into shitting his breeches, when he recognized the culprit. 

"Eskel." 

The other Witcher took a place on the bench on the other side of the table. "Just tossing a coin to my Witcher, Wolf." 

"Fuck off." 

"I see that fame has really done a number on your personality." 

"It's embarrassing," Geralt grumbled. 

"Well, even the Witchers who are not the sainted Geralt of Rivia are reaping the benefits of your bard's efforts. Where is he, I was hoping to meet him." 

"You can find him at the Oak and Elf and listen to his performance with his other fawning admirers." 

Eskel chuckled. "You almost sound jealous." 

"Hmm," Geralt rumbled, a nonverbal threat for Eskel to continue his line of teasing. Thankfully, his brother Witcher changed the topic to their recent contracts, and they spent the next few hours catching up. 

"Why, Geralt, I didn't know you had any other friends in the world besides me!" Jaskier interrupted. He still practically vibrated with the residual excitement from a profitable performance. 

"Eskel, Jaskier," Geralt's introduction was begrudging and perfunctory. 

"Oh, another Witcher! Such a pleasure to meet you! Do you have any nicknames or sobriquets I might be familiar with?" Jaskier sat down next to the stranger with an air of eagerness and delight. 

"I've had a few call me a stallion," Eskel replied. 

"No flirting. Both of you." Geralt's hand gesture resulted in him hitting the side of his hand on the scarred tabletop. That was when he realized that he may be drunk. "Dammit, Eskel. Every time we meet I end up drunk." 

"You're slow on the uptake," Eskel said. "I thought you figured it out a century ago. I certainly learned that your company is best when you're three sheets to the wind." 

Jaskier was nearly bug-eyed with astonishment. "I have never seen him drunk! He is actually smiling! This is wonderful!" 

Eskel turned back to the bard. "I think he'll only let himself lose control if there's someone capable of watching his back. Or it could just be his way of coping with me." 

"What kind of drunk is he?" Jaskier inquired breathlessly. 

Eskel leaned in, as if a few inches of distance would negate Geralt's superb hearing. "He sings. And gets affectionate." 

Jaskier looked like Midwinter had come early. Geralt frowned, gulped the last of his ale, and pushed the mug away. "No. No talking 'bout me." 

"Fine," Eskel said. He was a true, true friend, Geralt mused. A brother, really. 

"...I'll tell Jask, here, all about myself. Maybe he'll grace a ride along with a friendlier Witcher." 

Geralt growled. Eskel was a dog without honor. But he did start answering Jaskier's questions and even let him pull out the bound papers that the bard used to take notes. 

It was nice, actually. To hear Eskel and Jaskier talking. He felt good, for once. 

*** 

Eskel accompanied them on Geralt's contract the next day- a noonwraith haunting one of the farthest fields. He insisted Geralt would need his help, but when the time came to fight it he just stood near Jaskier and the horses. The fight was longer than Geralt would have liked, and the wrath had stirred up tons of dust that covered him from head to toe. When he returned to the men at the edge of the field they smirked at him and he took Roach's reins and stalked off toward the nearby stream. Jaskier, at least, was helpful and had a fresh set of clothes ready for him after he cleaned off. He tutted over Geralt wearing his trousers into the water. "Dust is easy to shake off, but mud requires a lot more work. Who did the laundry up at that castle of yours?" 

Eskel, again, was quick to share anecdotes of their training. "I think I saw Geralt wash a shirt once. He had worn it for three days when we did a sweep for harpies around Kaer Morhen. Got splashed with blood and entrails and probably dried as stiff as wood. He only washed it after one of the bastards opened its bowels from about an arm's length above him. After his hair, of course. You know how he is." 

Jaskier looked puzzled. "No I don't. He's horrible with his hair! I have to nag at him to comb it, and he can't even wash it well himself." Eskel looked smug as Jaskier's expression turned to indignation. The bard turned on Geralt, clearly about to swear at him before a look of understanding dawned. Suddenly, Jaskier was smiling at his shoes. Geralt didn't understand why. 

"What do you mean 'You know how I am?'" Geralt demanded. 

Eskel smirked. "Lambert and I call you pretty boy for a reason. How was I to know you were playing a game with your bard?" 

"What game?" Geralt asked. 

"I'm such a stoic and manly Witcher that I need someone else to scrub my ass in the bath." Eskel's parody of him was inaccurate and unamusing, but if course Jaskier laughed so hard he nearly fell off the stump he was sitting on. 

Geralt shook his head. 

*** 

Finally the three encountered a crossroads and Eskel declared it was time to part. 

Geralt watched as Jaskier made a fuss over their farewell, with multiple versions of "So happy we met!" and "Keep in touch!" Eskel even dismounted so that Jaskier could give him an enthusiastic back-slapping embrace. Geralt rolled his eyes and kept himself stoically looking at the horizon though he felt a pang of jealousy. 

He was surprised when after Eskel asked for a moment alone with Geralt Jaskier complied and began heading down the road. Eskel waited for the distance to grow enough that the bard was safely out of human hearing range. 

"You're absolutely besotted," he said. 

Geralt knew loudly denying it would prove Eskel's point, so he calmly said, "It's not that bad." 

"Well, whatever. I approve, if it matters to you." 

"Why? You hated it when I was with Yennifer." 

"Yennifer is a bitch. But besides that, she uses you. I don't know how she really feels about you, but Jaskier told me about the bandits." 

"What bandits?" Geralt asks, because there have been many. 

"Outside of Oxenfurt, I think he said. He jumped in front of you and took a bolt to his shoulder." 

"He's an idiot," Geralt agreed. "What point does that prove?" 

Eskel ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "You're an idiot, Geralt. What would Yennifer have done?" 

"Stopped the bolt with magic." 

"Are you being this dense on purpose? Could you ever imagine her doing what Jaskier did? He said he couldn't play the lute for weeks, and he was lucky the bolt hit him in the shoulder when it could have easily got him in the neck, heart, or lung." 

Geralt understood. At the time he had just thought Jaskier was being monumentally stupid and had lectured him on how Witchers were hardier than humans and how he could have taken the bolt and healed completely in only a few days. Geralt had been angry because he had been scared. 

Eskel seemed to be able to tell that Geralt got it. He relaxed and said, "You got someone who is trying to spare you pain. Not just the crossbow bolt, but trying to change the opinions of people so you maybe can stay in a warm place for a night or just not get spat at when you walk by. We have to take on the monsters that kill people and we were tortured and mutated into taking the job without a choice, but that kid has decided to take on the whole ploughin' _world_ for you. So you either give him something back, or you do that stupid noble act you like to do and leave him for his own good." 

Geralt thought about that for a moment before he slid off of Roach and gave Eskel a rough hug. "Thanks," he managed to say. "That's... good advice. When did you get smart?" 

Eskel pushed him away by his face. "I've always been smart. One of us had to be." 

They promised to meet up at winter like usual, Eskel even demanding him to "bring your bard," before they both mounted and parted ways. Geralt let Roach catch up to Jaskier slowly, and it was verging on dusk when she walked up alongside the mild-tempered mare Jaskier was riding. 

"I like him," Jaskier said. "And I learned a lot about you." 

"Like what?" Geralt was almost afraid to ask. 

"Well, you never talk much about your past. I noticed that both you and him use the word 'training' instead of 'childhood.'" He glanced at Geralt and continued almost apologetically when he saw the Witcher wasn't getting it. "I can infer a lot about what your life was like by that. It makes your gruff and defensive persona a lot more understandable. Unfortunately for you, that means that you'll have to work a lot harder to try to get me to leave you alone, now." 

Geralt nudged Roach into walking closer to Jaskier's horse. Close enough that he could hold out his hand next to where Jaskier's spare hand rested on his thigh. The bard stared at his glove for a long moment before cautiously putting his hand in it. Geralt tightened his grasp and kept his eyes forward, though he swallowed thickly. After a moment he could finally say, "I wouldn't like it if you left me alone."


End file.
